I Hate This Game
by somakeitcount
Summary: Rosalie and Emmett have done almost everything there is to do anywhere. What happens when they decide to try something new? One-shot.


A/N: Here's a short fun story while I search for my muse for _Toward Forever_. If you're waiting for the new chapter of _TF _ to come out, be sure to check out some of my other one-shots while you wait. They're quite a bit of fun. LOOOOOVE!!

Disclaimer: I do not own any portion of or ideas from Stephenie Meyer's books. I only wish I did.

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**I Hate This Game**

"Emmett," Rosalie hissed through her teeth. "Emmett, I can't get my fingers in or out properly. It's awkward." He sighed, reaching over to guide her hand.

"Let me see... Here, use some of this white stuff. I've seen the professionals use this before, and they do what they do damn well. It must do something for them." Emmett rummaged through a bag before he found what he was looking for. Applying some to Rosalie's fingers, he rubbed it in gently. "There. Now try again."

Rosalie grinned, sliding her fingers in and out for a moment to make sure that they wouldn't get stuck on release. "Much better. Thank you, love."

Rosalie and Emmett had been on many dates before, and had done nearly everything there was to do in the world. But somehow, until that day, bowling had escaped them. The alley they had chosen was huge, featuring twenty four lanes in total. It was particularly noisy tonight, as it was the alley's infamous "Black Light Jam" night that they had every Friday night from 11:00 pm to 2:30 am. A very big event with the young people in Seatle, as they had been told.

"So I just walk up and throw it at the pins?" Rosalie asked, glancing over at Emmett. He nodded slowly.

"I think so. Everyone else is doing it like that, so you may as well give it a go." Shrugging, Rosalie took a walking approach to the line, pulled her arm back and tossed it forward, releasing the ball on the lane. It sped down the smooth wood with incredible speed, but ended up in the gutter. She frowned deeply.

"I don't know if I like this game all too much..."

Emmett smirked, looking up at the automated scoreboard above them. "That's one zero..."

Rosalie stuck out her tongue at Emmett as she picked up another ball. Repeating her previous actions, the ball sped down the lane again. This time, it connected with the head pin, which caused a chain reaction. The all of the pins fell to the ground, several of them cracked due to the force of the blow. Rosalie grinned, "I do believe that's a spare." Emmett rolled his eyes and mimicked her playfully.

"Watch how a man plays the game," he said as he passed her, ball in hand. The neon ball flew down the lane, riding all to close to the edge of the gutter. It finally came to the pins, but only knocked down one on the far left side. Rosalie smirked.

"Manly."

"Manly," Emmett mimicked in a high, nasally voice. He grabbed another ball and approached the line. Lining up his shot carefully, he set the ball down and gave it a nudge. It rolled along at a leisurely pace, slow for a vampire, normal for a human. At the last possible moment, however, it rolled into the gutter. A choking sound gurgled up Emmett's throat, accompanying his bewildered expression.

"But... But... I lined it up... It was so perfect... But..." he sputtered, as he went to take his seat.

"There, there love, I'm sure you'll get it soon," cooed Rosalie, picking up another ball. She pulled her arm back and extended it gracefully, releasing the ball from her fingers. It met the ground with a barely audible _thump_ and rolled straight down the lane. It connected with the head pin again, and sent the rest of the pins flying.

"I think I'm starting to like this game," she announced, a triumphant smile on her lips. "What did I get there, Emmett?"

"A strike," he mumbled bitterly as he went to take her place. Several more frames went on like this, causing Emmett to get grumpier and grumpier. Rosalie walked back to the chairs from her eighth frame, smiling.

"Your turn, darling," she cooed.

Emmett eyed the lane scrutinizingly, determined to bowl more than three points in this frame. This time, he tried a walking approach, careful to keep his arm straight as he released the ball. At the end of the lane, pins flew in every direction. Emmett's arms flew up in triumph. "AH-HA!! I DID IT! I GOT A STRIKE! DID YOU SEE THAT ROSE?" He jumped in the air, pumping his fist. Much to his dismay, however, Rosalie was sitting in her chair snickering.

"What?" he asked as he took his seat, coming off of his high.

"You stepped over the line."

"What line?"

"The red one on the beginning of the lane."

"And what does that mean?" he asked, his voice falling. Rosalie snorted as she broke into laughter again.

"It doesn't count."

"My strike?"

"Nope. It's a foul," she choked out between gasps for air. She was curled up in a ball, holding her stomach tightly as she laughed. "You don't get any points for it. Look at the board." The board featured no new points for Emmett, and he growled.

Sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms, Emmett frowned. His lower lip pushed out slightly, and he glared venomously at the pins on their lane. "I hate this game."

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A/N: I hope you guys liked it! Just a fun little short. And for those of you who read the beginning with a different mindset, get your minds out of the gutter. XD The white stuff I mentioned can be either called rosin or slick powder, depending on what you can see Rosalie needing. Rosin gives you better control, and slick powder makes the ball come off of your fingers a little easier. (I used to be a bowler. ; )


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